


Terrifying

by literarynonsensefics



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: i had fun with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 00:21:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10730322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literarynonsensefics/pseuds/literarynonsensefics
Summary: I wrote this for @fangirlinganation on tumblr, as a part of the ACOWAR exchange.





	Terrifying

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on tumblr @literarynonsense!

“Can I talk to Rhysand for a moment?”  The Inner Circle had just finished another dinner in the House of Wind, when Nesta spoke up amongst the crowd.  Nobody hid their noticing of the way Nesta addressed him.   _Rhysand_.  “What?”

“That was the first time you’ve ever _requested_ to speak with me,” Rhys noted, sipping his wine.  “Normally you demand it.”

“Stop.” Feyre slapped his arm--softly--but Nesta could see her hiding a grin.  

“Anyway,” Mor dragged the conversation back to its starting place.  She was grinning too, reveling in the sudden discomfort.  “Why do you want to speak to Rhys?”

Nesta shrugged.  Nesta never shrugged.  “I don’t know, I guess I want to get to know you better.  Lucien, you can come too.”

“Woah, woah.”  Lucien held up his arms.  “I am _not_ a part of this.”

“I wouldn’t argue with her.” Elain placed one of her slender hands on his arm.

“Elain, love-”

“Sure, Nesta, I’d _love_ to speak to you.” Rhys’s eyebrows were raised, but he was all smiles as he set down his wine glass.  “I’m sure Lucien would be honored as well.”

“I never said I’d-”

“Good.” Nesta smiled back at him, ignoring Feyre and Elain’s shared glances.  “After dinner then, on the balcony.”

“Perfect.”  Not one of them spoke for the rest of the evening, but stifled laughter could be heard from Mor and Azriel’s end of the table.

-

“Fine, we’re here, what do you want?”  Rhys and Lucien stood side by side, both looking equally disgruntled.  

“I want to know your intentions with my sisters.”  Nesta stared them down, _daring_ them to refute her.  Rhys cracked first, bursting into laughter.

“I’m sorry, our intentions?” Rhysand wiped his eyes when tears collected there, glancing over to Lucien.  “I mean, they’re our mates, we wouldn’t ever hurt them.  Are you kidding?”

“I don’t think she’s kidding,” Lucien murmured.

“You have to think this is at least half as funny as -”

“No, Lucien’s right.” Lucien bowed his head and Rhys sobered.  

“What?”

“I’m not kidding.”  Nesta looked them over.  “Because if you don’t convince me you’re good enough for them, I won’t hesitate to nail your balls to the wall.”

Lucien blanched.  “That was intense.”

“If you can’t handle me, you shouldn’t be involved with Elain,” Nesta said cooly.  

“Oh, umm, wow...” Rhys scratched the back of his neck.  “Ok.  Well, Feyre and I are married and mated--have been for _some time_ now--and we’re just enjoying life together.  I don’t plan on kidnapping her, murdering her, or doing anything to her against her will.”

Nesta rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  You?”

“I-I’m, uhh, me and Elain are the same,” Lucien stammered.  “I also do not planning on doing anything nefarious to her.  Unless she wants me to.”

“Kinky.”  Rhys smirked.  Lucien, without looking his way, set his hair on fire.  Rhysand choked it out by himself, but gave the High Lord of Autumn a vulgar gesture in response.

“Fine.”  Nesta trailed her eyes over them, and waved them away.  “I’ll have my decision made shortly.”

Rhys flicked his head to her.  “Decision made about what?”

“Whether I’ll let either of you brutes near my sisters.”

“It could kill us if you don’t,” Lucien said quickly.  “We’re both already mated, our health would suffer.”

“Good thing I’m not too attached to either of you.”

“It’s been _three decades_ since we’ve met Feyre and Elain.”  Rhys held up his hands.  “Why are you bringing this up _now_?”

Nesta grinned.  “Because I like seeing you squirm?  And things were getting boring around here?”

“You’re with the _commander of the Illyrian armies_ , how are things boring?”  

“Speaking of commander, would you two excuse me?  I wish to speak to Cassian.”  Nesta shooed a thoroughly irked Rhys and a relieved Lucien back inside, where she didn’t miss them falling onto the couch with the rest of the party and clutching their heads in their hands.  She chuckled under her breath; males: so entertaining.  

Feyre and Elain seemed to agree, as both were practically rolling on the floor laughing.  

“Sweetheart, as much as I love seeing them pissed beyond belief, well…”  Cassian cocked his head.  “What did you do?" 

“Asked about their intentions with my sisters.”  Nesta readily accepted the drink Cassian offered to her and took a sip.  “Nothing worth troubling everyone else with.”

Cassian laughed heartily and his wings ruffled behind him.  Nesta followed the movements, too entranced for a moment to do anything else.  “You, love, are the reason immortality never gets boring.”

“Really?  I thought it was because of scheming High Lords and Illyrian scoundrels.”

“Those too,” Cassian conceded.  “But they’d be hardly worth a mention without Nesta Archeron riling everyone up in the background.”

“Hmm,” Nesta set her wine glass down and crossed her arms.  “I quite like that.  Do I get a title?  

Nesta Archeron, official rile up-er of the Night Court?”

“Considering the conversation you just had with him, I’m sure he’d be willing to do anything for you right now.”  Cassian wrapped his hands around her waist.  “You’re terrifying.”

“As weird as it sounds,” Nesta rested her head in the crook of Cassian’s neck.  “Hearing you say that is extremely...attractive.”

“What?  Calling you terrifying?”

“Yes,” Nesta stared Cassian down with a terrific glint in her eye.

“If you want me to do anything, all you have to ask.”  Cassian lowered his voice.  “I won’t even make you beg for it.”  

The two looked at eachother for a long time, but Nesta broke the silence.  “That’s always appreciated, but I’m tired.”  She shrugged.  “Let’s go back inside.”

Cassian lead her back in through the door, holding an arm at her waist, and Nesta thought that immortality couldn’t get any better.  Of course, that was until Lucien and Rhys immediately stiffened when she sat down on a couch adjacent to them.  Feyre shot her a look, and Nesta let her sister though her mental shields. 

_To easily frightened High Lords,_ she said, raising a glass in a silent toast.  Feyre reciprocated the gesture.

_To easily frightened High Lords, and sisters more terrifying than the Attor._  They drank, and Nesta grinned.  What a lovely word.   


End file.
